CHAPTER XXIV.

_DAVID'S CONFLICT WITH GOLIATH._

1 SAMUEL xvii.

These irrepressible Philistines were never long recovering from their

disasters. The victory of Jonathan had been impaired by the exhaustion

of the soldiers, caused by Saul's fast preventing them from pursuing the

enemy as far, and destroying their force as thoroughly, as they might

have done. A new attack was organised against Israel, headed by a

champion, Goliath of Gath, whose height must have approached the

extraordinary stature of ten feet. Against this army Saul arrayed his

force, and the two armies fronted each other on opposite sides of the

valley of Elah. This valley has generally been identified with that

which now bears the name of Wady-es-Sumt--a valley running down from the

plateau of Judah to the Philistine plain, not more than perhaps eight or

ten miles from Bethlehem. The Philistine champion appears to have been a

man of physical strength corresponding to the massiveness of his body.

The weight of his coat of mail is estimated at more than one hundred and

fifty pounds, and the head of his spear eighteen pounds. Remembering the

extraordinary feats of Samson, the Philistines might well fancy that it

was now their turn to boast of a Hercules. Day after day Goliath

presented himself before the army of Israel, calling proudly for a

foeman worthy of his steel, and demanding that in default of any one

able to fight with him and kill him, the Israelites should abandon all

dream of independence, and become vassals of the Philistines. And

morning and evening, for nearly six weeks, had this proud challenge been

given, but never once accepted. Even Jonathan, who had faith enough and

courage enough and skill enough for so much, seems to have felt himself

helpless in this great dilemma. The explanation that has sometimes been

given of his abstention, that it was not etiquette for a king's son to

engage in fight with a commoner, can hardly hold water; Jonathan showed

no such squeamishness at Michmash; and besides, in cases of desperation

etiquette has to be thrown to the winds. Of the host of Israel, we read

simply that they were dismayed. Nor does Saul seem to have renewed the

attempt to get counsel of God after his experience on the day of

Jonathan's victory. The Israelites could only look on in grim

humiliation, sullenly guarding the pass by the valley into their

territories, but returning a silent refusal to the demand of the

Philistines either to furnish a champion or to become their servants.

The coming of David upon the scene corresponded in its accidental

character to the coming of Saul into contact with Samuel, to be

designated for the throne. Everything seemed to be casual, yet those

things which seemed most casual were really links in a providential

chain leading to the gravest issues. It seemed to be by chance that

David had three brothers serving in Saul's army; it seemed also to be by

chance that their father sent his youthful shepherd son to inquire after

their welfare; it was not by design that as he saluted his brethren

Goliath came up and David heard his words of defiance; still less was

it on purpose to wait for David that Saul had sent no one out as yet to

encounter the Philistine; and nothing could have appeared more

ridiculous than that the challenge should wait to be answered by the

stripling shepherd, who, with his sling and shepherd's bag thrown over

his shoulder, had so little of the appearance of a man of war. It seemed

very accidental, too, that the only part of the giant's person that was

not thoroughly defended by his armour, his eyes and a morsel of his

forehead above them, was the only part of him on which a small stone

from a sling could have inflicted a fatal injury. But obviously all

these were parts of the providential plan by which David was at once to

confer on his country a signal boon, and to raise his name to the

pinnacle of fame. And, as usual, all the parts of this pre-arranged plan

fell out without constraint or interference; a new proof that Divine

pre-ordination does not impair the liberty of man.

One cannot but wonder whether, in offering his prayers that morning,

David had any presentiment of the trial that awaited him, anything to

impel him to unwonted fervour in asking God that day to establish the

works of his hands upon him. There is no reason to think that he had.

His prayers that morning were in all likelihood his usual prayers. And

if he was sincere in the expression of his own sense of weakness, and in

his supplication that God would strengthen him for all the day's duties,

it was enough. Oh! how little we know what may be before us, on some

morning that dawns on us just as other days, but which is to form a

great crisis in our life. How little the boy that is to tell his first

lie that day thinks of the serpent that is lying in wait for him! How

little the girl that is to fall in with her betrayer thinks of the

snare preparing for her body and her soul! How little the party that are

to be upset in the pleasure boat and consigned to a watery grave think

how the day is to end! Should we not pray more really, more earnestly if

we did realise these possibilities? True, indeed, the future is hid from

us, and we do not usually experience the impulse to earnestness which it

would impart. But is it not a good habit, as you kneel each morning, to

think, "For aught I know, this may be the most important day of my life.

The opportunity may be given me of doing a great service in the cause of

truth and righteousness; or the temptation may assail me to deny my Lord

and ruin my soul. O God, be not far from me this day; prepare me for all

that Thou preparest for me!"

The distance from Bethlehem being but a few hours' walk, David starting

in the morning would arrive early in the day at the quarters of the

army. When he heard the challenge of the Philistine he was astonished to

find that no one had taken it up. There was a mystery about this, about

the cowardice of his countrymen, perhaps about the attitude of Jonathan,

that he could not solve. Accordingly, with all that earnestness and

curiosity with which one peers into all the circumstances surrounding a

mystery, he asked, what encouragement there was to volunteer, what

reward was any one to receive who should kill this Philistine? Not that

he personally was caring about the reward, but he wished to solve the

mystery. It is evident that the consideration that moved David himself

was that the Philistine had defied the armies of the living God. It was

the same arrogant claim to be above the God of Israel, which had puffed

up their minds when they took possession of the ark and placed it in the

temple of their god. "You thought so that day," David might mutter,

"but what did you think next morning, when the mutilated image of your

god lay prostrate on the floor? Please God, your sensations to-morrow,

yea, this very forenoon, shall be such as they were then." The spirit of

faith started into full and high activity, and the same kind of

inspiration that had impelled Jonathan to climb into the garrison at

Michmash now impelled David to vindicate the blasphemed name of Jehovah.

Was it the flash of this inspiration in his eye, was it the tone of it

in his voice, was it the consciousness that something desperate was to

follow in the way of personal faith and daring, that roused the temper

of Eliab, and drew from him a withering rebuke of the presumption of the

stripling that dared to meddle with such matters? Eliab certainly did

not spare him. Elder brothers are seldom remiss in rebuking the

presumption of younger. "Why camest thou down hither? And with whom hast

thou left those few sheep in the wilderness? I know thy pride and the

naughtiness of thy heart; for thou art come down that thou mightest see

the battle." Irritating though such language was, it was borne with

admirable meekness. "What have I now done? Is there not a cause?" "He

that ruleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city." Eliab

showed himself defeated by his own temper, a most mortifying defeat;

David held his temper firmly in command. Which was the greater, which

the better man? And the short question he put to Eliab was singularly

apt, "Is there not a cause?" When all you men of war are standing

helpless and perplexed in the face of this great national insult, is

there not a cause why I should inquire into the matter, if, by God's

help, I can do anything for my God and my people?

Undaunted by his brother's volley, he turned to some one else, and

obtained a similar answer to his questions. Inspiration is a rapid

process, and the course for him to pursue was now fully determined upon.

His indignant tone and confident reliance on the God of Israel, so

unlike the tone of every one else, excited the attention of the

bystanders; they rehearsed his words to Saul, and Saul sent for him. And

when he came to Saul, there was not the slightest trace of fear or

faintheartedness about him. "Let no man's heart fail because of him; thy

servant will go and fight with this Philistine." Brave words, but, as

Saul thinks, very foolish. "_You_ go and fight with the Philistine? you

a mere shepherd boy, who never knew the brunt of battle, and he a man of

war from his youth?" Yes, Saul, that is just the way for you to speak,

with your earthly way of viewing things; you, who measure strength only

by a carnal standard, who know nothing of the faith that removes

mountains, who forget the meaning of the name ISRA-EL, and never spent

an hour as Jacob spent his night at Peniel! Listen to the reply of

faith. "And David said unto Saul, Thy servant kept his father's sheep,

and there came a lion and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock; and

I went out after him and smote him, and delivered it out of his mouth;

and when he arose against me I caught him by his beard, and smote him

and slew him. Thy servant slew both the lion and the bear; and this

uncircumcised Philistine shall be as one of them, seeing he hath defied

the armies of the living God. David said moreover, The Lord that

delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear,

He will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine."

Could there have been a nobler exercise of faith, a finer instance of a

human spirit taking hold of the Invisible; fortifying itself against

material perils by realizing the help of an unseen God; resting on His

sure word as on solid rock; flinging itself fearlessly on a very sea of

dangers; confident of protection and victory from Him? The only help to

faith was the remembrance of the encounter with the lion and the bear,

and the assurance that the same gracious help would be vouchsafed now.

But no heart that was not full of faith would have thought of that,

either as an evidence that God worked by him then, or as a sure pledge

that God would work by him now. How many an adventurer or sportsman,

that in some encounter with wild animals has escaped death by the very

skin of his teeth, thinks only of his luck, or the happiness of the

thought that led him to do so and so in what seemed the very article of

death? A deliverance of this kind is no security against a like

deliverance afterwards; it can give nothing more than a hope of escape.

The faith of David recognized God's merciful hand in the first

deliverance, and that gave an assurance of it in the other. What! would

that God that had helped him to rescue a lamb fail him while trying to

rescue a nation? Would that God that had sustained him when all that was

involved was a trifling loss to his father fail him in a combat that

involved the salvation of Israel and the honour of Israel's God? Would

He who had subdued for him the lion and the bear when they were but

obeying the instincts of their nature, humiliate him in conflict with

one who was defying the armies of the living God? The remembrance of

this deliverance confirmed his faith and urged him to the conflict, and

the victory which faith thus gained was complete. It swept the decks

clear of every vestige of terror; it went right to the danger, without

a particle of misgiving.

There are two ways in which faith may assert its supremacy. One,

afterwards very familiar to David, is, when it has first to struggle

hard with distrust and fear; when it has to come to close quarters with

the suggestions of the carnal mind, grapple with these in mortal

conflict, strangle them, and rise up victorious over them. For most men,

most believing men, it is only thus that faith rises to her throne. The

other way is, to spring to her throne in a moment; to assert her

authority, free and independent, utterly regardless of all that would

hamper her, as free from doubt and misgiving as a little child in his

father's arms, conscious that whatever is needed that father will

provide. It was this simple, child-like, but most triumphant exercise of

faith that David showed in undertaking this conflict. Happy they who are

privileged with such an attainment! Only let us beware of despairing if

we cannot attain to this prompt, instinctive faith. Let us fall back

with patience on that other process where we have to fight in the first

instance with our fears and misgivings, driving them from us as David

had often to do afterwards: "Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why

art thou disquieted in me? Hope in God, for I will yet praise Him who is

the health of my countenance and my God."

And now David prepared himself for the contest. Saul, ever carnal, and

trusting only in carnal devices, is fain to clothe him in his armour,

and David makes trial of his coat of mail; but he is embarrassed by a

heavy covering to which he is not accustomed, and which only impedes the

freedom of his arm. It is plain enough that it is not in Saul's panoply

that he can meet the Philistine. He must fall back on simpler means.

Choosing five smooth stones out of the brook, with his shepherd's staff

in one hand and his sling in the other, he drew near to the Philistine.

When Goliath saw him no words were bitter enough for his scorn. He had

sought a warrior to fight with; he gets a boy to annihilate. It is a

paltry business. "Come to me, and I will give thy flesh to the fowls of

the air and to the beasts of the fields." "Thus saith the Lord, Let not

the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in

his might." Was ever such proof given of the sin and folly of boasting

as in the case of Goliath? And yet, as we should say, how natural it was

for Goliath! But pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit

before a fall. In the spiritual conflict it is the surest presage of

defeat. It was the Goliath spirit that puffed up St. Peter when he said

to his Master, "Lord, I will go with Thee to prison and to death." It is

the same spirit against which St. Paul gives his remarkable warning,

"Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall." Can it be

said that it is a spirit that Churches are always free from? Are they

never tempted to boast of the talents of their leading men, the success

of their movements, and their growing power and influence in the

community? And does not God in His providence constantly show the sin

and folly of such boasting? "Because thou sayest, I am rich and

increased with goods, and have need of nothing, and knowest not that

thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked."

In beautiful contrast with the scornful self-confidence of Goliath was

the simplicity of spirit and the meek, humble reliance on God, apparent

in David's answer: "Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear,

and with a shield; but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts,

the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will

the Lord deliver thee into my hand; and I will smite thee, and take

thine head from thee; and I will give the carcases of the Philistines

this day to the fowls of the air and to the wild beasts of the earth,

that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. And all this

assembly shall know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear; for

the battle is the Lord's, and He will give you into our hand."

What a reality God was to David! He advanced "as seeing Him who is

invisible." Guided by the wisdom of God, he chose his method of attack,

with all the simplicity and certainty of genius. Conscious that God was

with him, he fearlessly met the enemy. A man of less faith might have

been too nervous to take the proper aim. Undisturbed by any fear of

missing, David hurls the stone from his sling, hits the giant on the

unprotected part of his forehead, and in a moment has him reeling on the

ground. Advancing to his prostrate foe, he seizes his sword, cuts off

his head, and affords to both friends and foes unmistakable evidence

that his opponent is dead. Rushing from their tents, the Philistines fly

towards their own country, hotly pursued by the Israelites. It was in

these pursuits of flying foes that the greatest slaughter occurred in

those Eastern countries, and the whole road was strewn with the dead

bodies of the foe to the very gates of Ekron and Gaza. In this pursuit,

however, David did not mingle. With the head of the Philistine in his

hands, he came to Saul. It is said that afterwards he took the head of

Goliath to Jerusalem, which was then occupied, at least in part, by the

Benjamites (Judges i. 21), though the stronghold of Zion was in the

hands of the Jebusites (2 Sam. v. 7). We do not know why Jerusalem was

chosen for depositing this ghastly trophy. All that it is necessary to

say in relation to this is, that seeing it was only the stronghold of

Zion that is said to have been held by the Jebusites, there is no ground

for the objection which some critics have taken to the narrative that it

cannot be correct, since Jerusalem was not yet in the hands of the

Israelites.

It cannot be doubted that David continued to hold the same conviction as

before the battle, that it was not he that conquered, but God. We cannot

doubt that after the battle he showed the same meek and humble spirit as

before. Whatever surprise his victory might be to the tens of thousands

who witnessed it, it was no surprise to him. He knew beforehand that he

could trust God, and the result showed that he was right. But that very

spirit of implicit trust in God by which he was so thoroughly influenced

kept him from taking any of the glory to himself. God had chosen him to

be His instrument, but he had no credit from the victory for himself.

His feeling that day was the very same as his feeling at the close of

his military life, when the Lord had delivered him out of the hand of

all his enemies:--"The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer;

the God of my rock, in Him will I trust; He is my shield and the horn of

my salvation, my high tower and my refuge, my saviour; Thou savest me

from violence."

While David was preparing to fight with the Philistine, Saul asked Abner

whose son he was. Strange to say, neither Abner nor any one else could

tell. Nor could the question be answered till David came back from his

victory, and told the king that he was the son of Jesse the

Bethlehemite. We have already remarked that it was strange that Saul

should not have recognized him, inasmuch as he had formerly given

attendance on the king to drive away his evil spirit by means of his

harp. In explanation it has been urged by some that David's visit or

visits to Saul at that time may have been very brief, and as years may

have elapsed since his last visit, his appearance may have so changed as

to prevent recognition. On the part of others, another explanation has

been offered. Saul may have recognized David at first, but he did not

know his family. Now that there was a probability of his becoming the

king's son-in-law, it was natural that Saul should be anxious to know

his connections. The question put to Abner was, Whose son is this youth?

The commission given to him was to enquire "whose son the stripling is."

And the information given by David was, "I am the son of thy servant

Jesse the Bethlehemite." It may be added that there is some difficulty

about the text of this chapter. It seems as if somehow two independent

accounts of David had been mixed together. And in one important version

of the Septuagint several passages that occur in the received text are

omitted, certainly with the result of removing some difficulties as the

passage stands.

It is not possible to read this chapter without some thought of the

typical character of David, and indeed the typical aspect of the

conflict in which he was now engaged. We find an emblematic picture of

the conquest of Messiah and His Church. The self-confident boasting of

the giant, strong in the resources of carnal might, and incapable of

appreciating the unseen and invincible power of a righteous man in a

righteous cause, is precisely the spirit in which opposition to Christ

has been usually given, "Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away

their cords from us." The contempt shown for the lowly appearance of

David, the undisguised scorn at the notion that through such a stripling

any deliverance could come to his people, has its counterpart in the

feeling towards Christ and His Gospel to which the Apostle alludes: "We

preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the

Greeks foolishness." The calm self-possession of David, the choice of

simple but suitable means, and the thorough reliance on Jehovah which

enabled him to conquer, were all exemplified, in far higher measure, in

the moral victories of Jesus, and they are still the weapons which

enable His people to overcome. The sword of Goliath turned against

himself, the weapon by which he was to annihilate his foe, employed by

that very foe to sever his head from his body, was an emblem of Satan's

weapons turned by Christ against Satan, "through death he destroyed him

that had the power of death, and delivered them who all their lifetime

were subject to bondage." The representative character of David,

fighting, not for himself alone but the whole nation, was analogous to

the representative character of Christ. And the shout that burst from

the ranks of Israel and Judah when they saw the champion of the

Philistines fall, and the enemy betake themselves in consternation to

flight, foreshadowed the joy of redeemed men when the reality of

Christ's salvation flashes on their hearts, and they see the enemies

that have been harassing them repulsed and scattered--a joy to be

immeasurably magnified when all enemies are finally conquered, and the

loud voice is heard in heaven, "Now is come salvation, and strength, and

the kingdom of our God and the power of His Christ; for the accuser of

our brethren is cast down, that accused them before our God day and

night."

Lastly, while we are instructed by the study of this conflict, let us be

animated by it too. Let us learn never to quail at carnal might arrayed

against the cause of God. Let us never fear to attack SIN, however

apparently invincible it may be. Be it sin within or sin without, sin in

our hearts or sin in the world, let us go boldly at it, strong in the

might of God. That God who delivered David from the paw of the wild

beast, and from the power of the giant, will make us more than

conquerors--will enable us to spoil "principalities and powers and

triumph openly over them."

The Expositor's Bible: The First Book of Samuel · 第 24 / 36 章